image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/bbabc0d7-e216-4c6b-a172-9421f2db27a5/0_0.png]

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The next morning, Peter felt enfeebled but couldn’t decide if it was because of the influx of incoming stats points or the shock of the previous days. A hurricane had swept him away and transported him into alien territory, like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. After all, in only three days, he had acquired magical powers, saved a pretty girl twice, killed monsters, beat a mobster, and shot dead a cultivator professional killer. About the latter, Peter remembered reading novels in which the main character was shocked and traumatized by his first kill and all sort of bullshit about taking a life. Peter wasn’t affected in the least.

I’m surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances. Who would have thought…

He had no idea if the assassin had a family but was pretty sure they were better off without him. However, didn’t look forward to repeating that kind of event.

“System, could you try to hack the assassin’s phone?” Peter asked, producing the item from his backpack.

“So fast?”

“Cop. The coop is the chickens’ house.”

“I’m happy we put our differences aside. Let me shave and shower, and let’s see what the Elf has to say.”

Exiting the bathroom, Peter found the garbage bin on the floor, and the half-eaten pair of sports shoes had vanished.

"Woof," the pup wagged his tail, then burped, a shoelace hanging out of his mouth. The next moment, he sucked it in like a spaghetti.

“You eat a lot, don’t you?” Peter threw a granola bar to the pup, who finished it in seconds, leaving crumbs all over the carpet. Peter had to vacuum those, ate a granola bar as well, drank a coffee, and went out, putting his small backpack on the back and taking the warg with him.

Eventually, they reached Peter’s preferred spot. Peter sat on the grass, legs crossed, and the little warg nearby, panting with his tongue out. The elf reappeared after Peter breathed for a few minutes, letting his body and mind relax. His face was serious, and he was inside a treehouse, sitting at a desk, staring at Peter. Behind was a study with countless books wrapped in leather, and the window on the side showed a starry night.

“By the light of the silver moon, I greet you, adventurer. If you see this specific recording, you had to kill to survive, yet you are not a warrior by job or birth. Hear me well, as your continued existence might depend on it.

You might think: I’m all alone in a hostile world. How can I prevail? Don’t lose hope. You are not alone. Unlike in System worlds, where many have access to a normal and comfortable life, in cultivator worlds, this privilege is reserved only for a few. All you have to do is look around you; the abused and the exploited are your allies.

“It’s up to you how to proceed, but the proven way is this: if you go on the path of war, take out important Cultivator figures hurting the normal citizens. Make an example of them, and let the public know why those villains have been punished. Cultivators hide their wrongdoings and revel in secrets and obscurity. Stay in the shadows, but project the light of truth upon them. Blame your killings upon a rival sect, if possible, pit the cultivators against each other.

“The knowledge of a special set of combative skills has been released to your personal AI assistant. They will unlock as you gain experience. May the night light your way until we meet again.”

The image disappeared, and Peter opened his eyes, feeling depressed. He had no intention of taking out anyone. Revolutionary was not a word Peter wanted to associate with himself, and the elf had sounded too Trotskyist for his liking. His top priority was to keep a low profile and hope those drug dealers wouldn’t send more assassins after him.

What the hell is in those pills?

The pup barked, thirsty for attention and having his head fondled.

“Huh?” Peer shook his head, stunned by the new tone.

“The fuck!” Peter facepalmed. “The System is broken… I’m screwed!”

“Why the heck are you talking like that?”

“Please, can you just speak normally?” Peter begged.

“Benevolent condescesion?” Peter hissed.

“Return to how you spoke before, or I’ll shut your voice off!” Peter yelled.

“Grrrr….” the pup growled, looking around, interpreting Peter’s raised voice as a warning toward some beast or unseen menace.

“It’s OK, little buddy. It’s just the System getting through a phase. Come!” Peter snapped his fingers and started running. “The exercise would do you good.”

When he returned to his dorm, Regina awaited him, walking back and forth. She waved at him as soon as Peter was visible, then squatted and hugged the incoming pup, squeezing it at her breast and ruffling his fur.

Lucky dog… Peter thought but tried to look away from her bosom. That kind of distraction was the last thing he needed.

“Where did you get it?” Regina asked.

"Remember that Dire Wolf? I found the pup near the body."

"Oh no! It was its mother!" Regina wailed, her eyes widened and watery.

"This is a warg, not a crazed beast. The one I killed ate his mother… Please, don't tell anyone I adopted a warg,” Peter lowered his voice, looking around to make sure no one heard them.

"Your secret is safe with me, so I solemnly swear," Regina raised her right hand, hanging the pup in the air by the back of the neck for a second. "Sorry, sweetie," she excused herself, hugging the warg again. “What's its name?"

"Doesn’t’ have one yet. Why don't you name him?" Peter proposed. “It’s a boy.”

"Can I?" Regina jumped on her toes. She looked cheerful and energetic, which made Peter smile. "What would you like best, a funny or serious name?"

Welcome back. You OK?

“Something related to fantasy or comics,” Peter repeated the System's words, adding his preference. "He'll grow big," he excused himself, just in case she preferred the funny thematic.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

"Hm… hm…" Regina pondered, grabbing her chin. "Do you have a preference, puppy? What do you like to do best?"

“Eating my shoes,” Peter laughed.

"Shredder!" Regina exclaimed in triumph, raising the pup over her head.

"That's perfect!" Peter exclaimed. “I adored the Ninja turtles when I was a kid!” It still brings back happy memories.

"Woof!"

"He likes it too," Peter smiled. "How are you?” He lowered his voice again, fondling her shoulder affectionately.

“I-m f-fine…” she stuttered, tears creeping into her eyes. She shook her head, like chasing away the bad memories, and blurted all of a sudden: “The club was a stupid choice. For our second date, you pick the place.”

“It’s OK,” Peter said softly, knowing he wanted to go on another date with her, but it was better not to, considering how hectic his life had become. “Mission accomplished. We were seen together, and Jack and Ariana know we’re over them. We can stop pretending.”

“Did I ever tell you I want to pretend?” she blurted. “I said I want Jack to see I’m moving on. I want to date you for real.”

Peter gasped, feeling his heart beating in his throat. Nevertheless, his decision was the same. “That’s nice of you, but I’m not worth the trouble. I’m just a normie, remember?”

She insisted, frowning at him. “So what? You saved me twice. And you’re funny: Centurion Snotty Boar,” she grinned.

Let’s stop before it gets too complicated, Peter thought. Better for both of us. For you, mostly.

“If it’s what you really want,” he sighed, his lips moved like having their own mind.

“Amazing! Then… please come with me,” she grinned sheepishly, putting Shredder down and forwarding a hand.

“You want us to go on a date now?” Peter asked. It was still morning.

“Not exactly… My parents are in town, and I’m… err… kinda grounded,” she lowered her head between the shoulders. “They said that if I want to date you, they should meet you first.”

“The heck?” Peter gasped.

“Yeah, they’re overprotective. And by the way… Be careful what you say in front of them. My folks have this evil way of extracting information from you—”

“They just sit and stare at you?” Peter recalled what his parents did when he was younger.

“—and I might have mentioned a few things about our adventures,” Regina confessed.

“What exactly did you tell them?” Peter furrowed his brows.

“That I broke up with Jack and want to date you… and that you saved me from a wolf… and took me home from the club when I got... drunk..." she choked. “Please,” she kneaded her hands. “I’m sure they’ll like you…”

“I’m sorry,” he stepped back. “I have a lot on my mind now…”

“Like what, walking the dog?” she sulked, crossing her arms. “You owe me this!”

Peter slackjawed. “I owe you to meet your parents and to ask for their permission to date you?”

“Exactly,” she nodded energetically. “The Chinese say that if you save someone, you are indebted to them. For life.”

The morning was becoming late, and passersby—teachers and students—looked at them curiously.

Fuck… I wanted to say goodbye, but now I’m meeting her parents…

“Thank you!” Regina exclaimed, interpreting Peter’s hesitation as a yes. She jumped to hug him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s go!” she said, taking his hand.

Shredder whimpered. “I think he wants to stay home,” Peter said. “Give me a minute.”

Leaving the pup in the apartment took exactly that amount of time, and soon after that, they strolled briskly through the campus and the old town. A few hotels stayed in business, and they stopped in front of the best of them, if not the biggest. A three-story building with brick walls covered in ivy and art-nouveau-style ironworks. Two armored cars and a few 4x4s were parked in front.

“Don’t mention the drugs or the... other thing,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he nodded.

The doorman opened the brass door for them. Inside, there were many people and luggage. Some people wore quality Italian suits, and others wore military fatigues. The latter openly carried military-grade guns. One of them pushed the button on a walkie-talkie.

“The princess is here,” he said.

“Send them up,” someone replied.

“Who are they?” Peter whispered in Regina’s ear.

“My dad’s people. He’s into moving valuables business. Don’t worry, it’s all legal…” She pulled him by the hand, and they went up the stairs to the third floor and a sort of royal suite. There were three persons there, two men and a woman. “My mom, dad, and uncle,” Regina said. “Guys, this is Peter!” She literally beamed, saying his name.

“Hey, princess,” one of the men said, hugging Regina and kissing her cheeks. He was in his middle forties, blond, medium height, tanned, and… restless. Peter couldn’t find another word. The blond had something in motion every second. Eyes, fingers, feet… The other man, with dark hair spiked with a few strands of gray, raised a hand in greeting and returned his eyes to his laptop. He had soft traits and that ageless vibe Peter had seen in some Asian men.

“Chere catin!” the woman said, opening wide her arms. The resemblance was striking. Blonde and in her forties, the woman kept her good looks and silhouette. “Make yourself comfortable, Peter,” she gestured toward an armchair. By happenstance or not, it was arranged in the middle of the room, facing the three.

“Feels like a parole hearing,” Peter laughed candidly, sitting and crossing his legs, trying to appear relaxed.

“It’s a vetting,” the blond man said. “Regina has been too sheltered for her own good, and we want to be sure she makes a good choice this time.”

“Tell me, Peter. Do you like Regina?” the mother asked.

“Who wouldn’t? Peter replied, rolling his eyes and deciding to counterattack. “The question you should ask is: do we get along well? And the answer is I don’t know yet. She hangs out with the cool people, I’m with the help.”

“Support is important!” Regina objected.

“I agree there,” the dark-haired man said. “I read your CV. You studied business. Why did you stop?”

Peter snorted, letting out a sad sigh afterward. “I wanted to start an online store about luxury goods and antiques. That niche collapsed.”

“Why didn’t you get the diploma, though?”

“I never cared for that,” Peter shrugged. “My studies were just a means to achieve an end. I moved on.”

“I see…” the man said, keeping his expression impenetrable.

“Let’s cut to the chase. You saved our princess’s life,” the blond man said, putting his hand inside his jacket and taking out a thick envelope he threw on the coffee table before Peter. “This is my thanks, but it comes with a condition. If you take it, you walk away and forget about dating Regina—”

“Marius!” the girl yelled, advancing with her hands balled into fists. “How dare you!”

“Money reveals the truth in people,” the man shrugged. “So, what’s gonna be, kid? Cash or the girl?”

A red curtain briefly descended on Peter’s eyes, and he barely refrained from punching the blond. He liked money but disliked being insulted. After a year of bullying from all sorts of wannabee cultivators monkeying the behavior of the sect elders, he was quite fed up with it. The cherry on the cake had been the disdainful envelope-throwing gesture.

Taking the envelope, Peter stood up, opened it, and briefly shuffled the banknotes with his thumb. They were all new bills of a hundred, feeling pristine. At least ten grand. He put the envelope in his pants’ pocket.

Regina’s eyes welled with tears. The man shrugged, walking his eyes around the room with a certain I told you so in them. He was not gloating, though; he looked sad. Like he had really hoped for Regina to find a nice guy to date.

“You said money reveals the truth, right? Yeah, only this is not the truth you expected,” Peter said, barely containing his anger. “I’ll take the money as an asshole tax because it was a shitty move. We’ll spend it on the best food and drinks in town, and I’m going on a date with her no matter what you say. This,” he waved his finger around the room, “is nuts. If you have a problem with me, old-timer, let’s go outside!”

“HAHAHA…” the blond man roared, letting his head backward, then came forward to slap Peter’s shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting that. He has my vote. Just between us, I would have kicked your ass,” he whispered the last part to Peter. “I was in the special forces.”

“Please, don’t overexert yourself, dear senior citizen,” Peter sussured. “I can hear your dental prosthetic clinking.”

Marius growled, sketching a step forward. “You little—"

“Yey!” Regina clapped, interrupting their secret quarrel from which she evidently didn’t hear a word.

“Love is so romantic at their age…” Regina’s mother sighed, giving her daughter a thumbs up.

Hey! Hold your horses, woman! Peter yelled on the inside.

“It’s a conditional yes from me,” the dark-haired man said calmly, closing his laptop. “Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he frowned at Regina. “I told you Jack was bad news, and you didn’t listen. These are my conditions: You’ll see Peter for half an hour a day for a week, not longer. Next Saturday, you can go for dinner. You will keep this going for a month before deciding whether you want to be an item. Of course, you can do what you want, but goodbye allowance.”

“First half hour starts now,” Regina blurted, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him out of the room. She slowed down only when they were out, searching for his eyes. “It’s not about the money. My parents’ opinion means a lot to me. A month is a small price to be sure we like each other. Right?” she slightly frowned, scrutinizing him.

“So… err… coffee?” he asked, still a bit dazed by the turn of events.

"Let's have some tea. I challenge you to find the perfect place. I want to see if you can read my tastes. Reward: a kiss."

In Peter's mind, the task was simple. Five minutes later, they were in front of a cozy tea house. It had the best Earl Gray and muffins in town.

"You think I'm eighty?" Regina scoffed. "I'll give you my grandma's phone if you want to take your date here."

"What kind of tea do you like?"

"Boba tea," Regina said in a deadpanned tone, ignoring the slight annoyance in his voice.

Of course, she’s what, eighteen?

"Do you know a place?"

"I sure do."

Taking him by the arm, she led the way to a crowded place two blocks further. It was full of students, almost all Cultivators. The only normies were the waitpersons.

"Can we sit with you?" Regina asked a pair sitting at a table of four. It was the only place available.

"You can sit," The boy looked up. Young and immature, his eyes told of a smug plan, maybe to appear cool in front of his girlfriend by humiliating a normie.

Peter stared back blandly, his eyes reflecting a wish to murder the other in a gruesome manner.

"We were just leaving," the girl said, pulling his date after her.

"I'm sorry," Regina whispered while sitting. "I forgot about the crowd… Did I behave like that, too?"

"It's OK," he said. "Let's enjoy the tea."

They had two teas each, with different flavors, which he forgot as soon as the glasses were empty, mesmerized by her puckered lips, wishing to kiss them. She paid, and then they walked aimlessly in silence on the streets. Somehow, how hard he tried, Peter couldn't find a proper conversation topic.

All of a sudden, she cowered into herself for a few seconds. Peter realized they were passing by the street with the Pink Trip. He put his arm around her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Regina tucked herself into Peter. He leaned his face into his hair instinctively.

“What if we’d tell someone about what happened? Someone we could trust and could act against those bastards? Maybe Alchemy—"

“I don’t trust that bitch!” Regina snapped faster than a rattlesnake. “Dog doesn’t eat dog.” Peter jerked her head, staring at her for a second, and she sulked. “I’m a cultivator too, I know… I’d give a hand to be normal again. I don’t need powers if they bring out the worst in me.”

“Your worst is better than the nice I’ve seen on some people,” Peter said, fondling her arm. “You’re staying with your parents?” he asked because there were only a few minutes left from their half an hour, and they were between the hotel and the Campus.

“No,” she shook her head. “They asked me to, but I’m mad at them. Uncle Marius pushed it too far.”

“Oh, so that guy’s your uncle,” Peter giggled. “I almost punched him.”

“For a moment, I thought you’d take the money and leave,” she sighed, running her hand through her hair.

“Honestly?” Peter asked, looking into her eyes. “I would have left if not for the money. Before today, I thought my parents were the weirdest on Earth, but your folks are on another level.”

“Then I have to thank Marius for the idea,” she smiled, caressing his cheek.

“We’re here,” Peter said. They arrived in front of Regina’s dorm.

“I’ll go study,” she said, pointing at the library building. “Tomorrow at the same hour? We can check your tea house next.”

“Let’s meet in the afternoon,” Peter suggested, intending to train in the morning. “What’s your number?”

“Here,” she said, showing him her phone screen, waiting for him to copy the number. When he was done, Regina pecked his lips briefly and ran away.